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1 Man. Say thou wilt course, thy greyhounds

are as swift As breathed stags; ay, fleeter than the roe.

2. Mar. Doft thou love pictures? we will fetch Adonis, painted by a running brook; [thee ftrait And Citherea all in fedges hid; Which seem to move, and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving fedges play with wind. : Lord. We'll shew thee. Io, as she was a maid, And how she was beguiled and surprised, As lively painted as the deed was done. wood

3 Man. Or Daphne roaming through a thorny Scratching her legs, that one fhallfwear she bleeds; And at that fight thall: fad Apollo weep;: So workmanly the blood and tears are drawn.

Lord. Thou art a lord, and nothing but a lord: Thou hast a lady far more beautiful Than any woman in this waining age.

1 Man. And’till the tears, that the hath feed for thee,
Like envious floods, e'er-ran her lovely face,
She was the faireft creature in the world,
And yet

she is inferior to none..
Sly. Am I a Lord, and have I such a lady?
Or do I dream? or have I dreamed 'till now!
I do not sleep; I fee, I hear, I speak;
l'smell sweet favours, and I feel foft things;
Upon my life, I am a Lord, indeed, s,
And not a tinker, nor Christophero Sly.
Well, bring our Lady hither to our fight,
And, once again, a pot o'th' smallest ale.

2 Man: Will't pleafe your Mightiness to wash your Oh, how we joy to see your wits restored ! [hands? Oh, that once more you knew but what


are ! These fifteen years you have been in a dream, Or, when you waked, so waked as if you flépt.

Sly. These fifteen years! by my fay, a goodly nap:

But did I never speak of all that time?

1 Man. Oh, yes, my Lord, but very idle words. For tho' you lay here in this goodly chamber, Yet would you fay, ye were beaten out of door, And rail upon the hostess of the house; And say, you would present her at the leet, Because she bought itonejugs, and no fealed quarts: Sometimes you would call out for Cicely Hacket.

Sly. Ay, the woman's maid of the house. 3 Man. Why, Sir, you know no house; nur na

such maid ; Nor no fuck men, as you have reckoned up; (6) Is Stpehen Sly, and old. John Naps of Greece, And Peter Truf, and Henry Pimpernell, And twenty. more such names and men as these, Which never were, nor no man ever saw.

Sly. Now, Lord be thanked for my good amends: áll. Amen.

Sly. By th' maís, I think I am a Lord indeed. : What is thy name?

Man. Sim, an't please your Honour.

Sly. Sim? that's as much as to say Simeon, or Put forch, thy hand and, fill the pot. [Simon;

[The Servant gives him drink. Enter Lady, with Attendants., I thank thee ; thou shalt not lose by it.

(6) is Stephen Sly, and old John Naps of Greece,} An unknown correfpondent, (whe: figns himfel L. H) is pleased to propose this very reasonable conjecture,

and old Fohn Napo? th? Green. * As Sly says, he's the fon of old Sly of Burton:heath, and talks of the fat alewife of Wincot,' he thinks he can with no propriety have any acquaintance in Greece. If, indeeding the Province of Greece were to be here understood, this ob fervation must neceffarily tal place ; but I have not difturbed the text, because I do not know but that in the neighbourhood of Wincot and Burton-heath, there may be fome village called Greece, or Greys, &c.

Lady. How fares my noble Lord? Sly. Marry, I fare well, for here is cheer enough. Where is my wife?

Lady. Here,noble Lord, what is thy will with her? Sly. Are you my wife, and will not call me huf.

band? My men should call me Lord, I am your good man.

Ludy. My busband and my Lord, my Lord and I am your wife in all obedience: *[husband, ( Sly. I know it well: what must I call her?

Lord. Madam.
Sly: Alce Madam, or Joan Madam?

Lord. Madam, and nothing else, fo Lords call Ladies.

Sly. Come, sit down on my knee. Sim, drink to her. Madam wife, they say that I have dreamed, and slept above some fifteen years and more.

Lady. Ay, and the time seems thirty unto me, Being all this time abandoned from your bed.

Sly. 'Tis much. Servants, leave me and her alone:-Madam, undrefs you, and come now, to bed. Sim, drink to her.

Lady. Thrice-noble Lord, let me entreat of you, To pardon me yet for a night or two; Or, if not fo, until the sun be set : For your physicians have exprefly charg'd,, In peril to incur your former malady, Thar I should yet abfent me from your bed; I hope this reason stands for

my excuse. Sly. Ay, it stands so that I may hardly tarry so long; but I would be loath to fall into my dream again: I will therefore tarry in despight of the flesh and the blood.

Enter a Messenger. Miel. Your Honour's players, liearing your amend


Are come to play a pleasant comedy;
For fo your doctors hold it very meet,
Seeing too much sadness hath congealed your blood,
And melancholy is the nurse of frenzy.
Therefore they thought it good you hear a play,
And frame your mind to mirth and merriment;
Which bars a thousand harms, and lengthens life.

Sly. Marry, I will ; 'let them play; is it not a commodity ? a Christmas gambol, op a tumbling trick:

Lady. No,my good Lord, it is more pleasing stuff.
Sly. What, boufhold stuff?
Lady. It is a kind of history.

Sly. Well, we'll fee't. Çome, Madam wife, fit by my side, and let the world flip, we shall ne'er be younger,

irja 191011

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Flourish Enter LUCENT10 and TRANIO


RAN10, since for the great defire I had

To fee fair Padua, nursery of arts, I am arrived from fruitful Lombardy, (7) The pleasant garden of great Italy; And, by my father's love and leave, am armed With his good will, and thy good company; Moit trusty servant, well approved in all, Here let us breathe, and haply institute A course of learning, and ingenious studies, Pisa, renowned for grave citizens, Gave me my being;

father first, A merchant of


traffic through the world: Vincentio's come of the Bentivolii,

and my

(7) I am arrived for fruitful Lombard] Though all the imprellions concur in this, I take it to be a blunder of the editors, and not of the Author Padua is not in Lombardy; but Pisa, from which Lucentio comes, is really in chose territories.

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